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Just saw your edit! Think on it a bit. Good luck friend.

END DATE EXTENDED. RAFFLE ENDS OCTOBER FIRST

Ohhhh I'm interested Idk what I'm doing but ya know what? Frigde it.

Edit: HOLLY HECK I GOT IT?! I asked for a one in the comment in the roll, then got a one! Man, should try that more often

The very moment when poor pirate, captain Blackbeard, sneaked out of the tavern without paying, taking away a stolen half empty bottle of rum only to stumble right into the arms of Sir Henry Morgan and his well armed guards who were stationed outside ready to burst into the busy tavern

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the most wanted pirate of the known seas... Don't think you'll be going anywhere, thieving scallywag, you're off to the gallows soon enough" noted the captain of the navy, his guards quickly seizing and arresting the roguish pirate.

Morgan leaned closer to the captive, snatching the bottle of rum from Edward Teach's grasp. "Thank you for the evidence of your theft, though.. it was a nice touch... to allow us to celebrate our victory, at your expense" noted the man of import, biting the cork with the teeth and spitting it to the ground, proceeding to drink down the content

All in all, it had indeed been a mistake to assume he could escape without getting caught

5 mistakes

Mistaken Troubles

A woman with long red hair and blue eyes was walking down the street when she bumped into a stranger. "I am so sorry." The woman said quickly blushing as she looks into his eyes. The man takes her hand and kisses it lightly. "Surly a woman such as yourself would never have to be so sorry. I insist it was my mistaken step." The man said smiling. Since that time the man and woman met up multiple times, but one date after another there was always something wrong, always a mistake. On one date our sweet woman named Carol and our gentleman Mike was at a bar. "Oh mike this place looks wonderful." Carol said smiling, she went to grab her drink and accidentally knocked it over on him. "Oh no I am so sorry!!" She sighed and try clean him up he just gives a light laugh. The next mistake is when a woman sat next to him and caught his gaze. "MIKE!" She said moving to between him and the woman. "Pardon me" Carol said and soon they both share a laugh. It was always mistakes, but one mistake they are proud of is their little girl Sarah.

Finally managed to get my story written and my post edited. Sorry it took so long Writing time is at a premium right now.

Glad to hear it!

EDDDDIIITTT!

Now class, do you like your teacher or not?

Error; how to describe this...train wreck of a human. The girl was unlike most others, her brain having been wired differently from birth. The brunette suffered with Autism, although she was never quite sure why it was such a difference within the norm. Why people treated her to so differently. She had learned to grow with the stares, with the constant questions of reality that popped into her head, the constant search for logic and peace. With her family shrine, she had finally found a safe haven for herself.

Anybody holding back or didn't nod, I'll see you when class is done-

The music blared through her headphones as she sat on her plain white bed, knees brought up while her laptop rested upon her knees. The screen was dark, her eyes squinted in deep concentration. She had recently turned to games to soothe the emptiness inside of her chest. She didn't know what it was; longing, sadness, isolation. Whatever it was, these games soothed it for a short period of time, so she spent all of her time on them.

"Sa- I mean, Error." a knock came from the door, before it was creaked open by her father. "Dinners on the table..." He said softly, not wanting to frighten the easily surprised girl.

You versus me, we don't match up at all.

"Let me finish this match, please, dad." She didn't remove her eyes from the screen, in the middle of a combo-based battle. The man smiled and nodded, gently closing the door as he exited again. She continued, ignoring the rest of the world. She could hear the music in her ears, her lips moving to the words with no sound escaping.

Is it bad if I wanted your hand to hold me like you did back then?

She loved this RPG; the character design was almost flawless, the graphics unbelievable. The controls were hard, but she had figured them out easily enough. Surprisingly, they were actually incredibly logical; just like her brain. A grin erupted onto her face as the last monster shattered to pieces, giving her poor fingers a break. She leaned back, letting out a breath as she blinked rapidly to avoid getting a headache or blurry vision.

Give it up and get back in line.

She looked back at the screen, her hands shaking. She didn't know why; what emotion was this? Why did she suddenly feel this way?

She could see the other players conversing with each other. Chatting happily about their lives, their items...and she wanted desperately to join in. But she held herself back in fear of herself; something she would say that would sound stupid; sound like her normal self.

She looked at her character one more time, pulling her hands shyly away from the keyboard and curling her fingers into loose and yet firm fists, her rings scraping against one and other.

"You could try one more ti-i-i-ime."

She shook her head, shutting her laptop lid and setting it at her feet, turning off her music and removing her headphones. "If only life was an RPG. Maybe then I'd finally understand what's wrong with me."

My oh my, this sounds fun. Count me in.

Let's see, roll a dice, eh?

I'll post my story in a few hours. I need time to whip up some magic with me fingers.

Here's my humbly proffered story. A Moment in time truly can change the world.

Batman isn't my first choice, but the challenge was all the more fun because of it! Thanks for the fun!

EDIT: totally realized after the fact I was supposed to put the story in this post. Sorry and hope a separate post isn't too much of an inconvenience!

Everyone needs a holiday right? Of course they do. Even hero's of the nighttime vigilante type who stop criminals from taking over Gotham and hold up the hard mantle of billionaire playboy during the day. Even those people. Even me. So it will come as no surprise to you then, that I decided I needed to be on the shores of the California coast. Oh yes, it's a destination vacation alright, and one that I knew would allow me the time I needed to step back and put my life into perspective. Yeah right. One can't just step back from who they are, not when being a hero is in the blood...

It was a normal day on the North Beach of the San Francisco Bay, the Golden Gate bridge glistening in the evening light just to the west on the horizon. It was the time of day when everything seems to just.. Take a breath. A sigh almost, as day slips away. It happens even in big cities like San Francisco, it's just harder to recognize. Corina sat on the sand, a history book open in her lap as she was wont to do every Friday evening at just about this time of day. Her gaze wasn't on her book though, it was lifted to that beautiful sight before her, the bridge, the city lights only now becoming evident against the dulling light of day. It was a crisp evening, fall taking hold over a fading summer, and the leaves of any trees were just beginning to show the signs with brilliant splashes of color. It was her favorite time of year. A deep breath lifted Corina's chest, held, then exhaled as she returned her gaze to the text before her. Some would call it just a dry tome... A relic of the past and even older traditions. But to her it was a wealth of stories and knowledge. History could never be boring to her.

Engrossed as Corina was, her bare feet buried in the sand, she had not seen the man lounging against a large tree some ways off where the beach just began. His eyes had never left her, not since he'd arrived about an hour before. Calculation gleamed in his gaze. The man wore a hooded jacket, which was pulled up over a thatch of dark hair. It wasn't long after Corina returned to reading that the man slowly began walking toward her, calm, calculating. The actions of a plan just put into motion. A plan that, just as every crime did, would change the world of a least one person, no matter how small and insignificant she might feel. It could happen to anyone, and today, the lottery had fallen on Corina.

Too late did she hear the shifting of sand behind her. The chittering of birds gone silent with the passing of the man. Only subtle hints of his approach. Her startled gaze snapped up as she felt the whisper soft touch of first his hand, then the firmer pressure of a knife blade sticking into her side. A calm yet deep and gravelly voice met her ears as she was pulled to stand up, her beloved book falling on its face in the sand, forgotten just like the stories it told. "Don't make any sudden moves, any sudden noises. We are going to my car, and you will get in like the nice girl I know you are.."

How can the emotions, the adrenaline, the heart pounding fear such a occurance brought about be described? A cold like the creeping of frost covered Corina's skin, and breathing seemed like a thing of the past. She found her feet moved without her will, propelled by the all encompassing feel of the knife at her side. In the moments it took to reach the parking lot, just two seemingly innocent figures strolling together, Corina's life was thrown into startling perspective. Up until now, she, like many in the world had never considered each moment a gift. Now, just one more moment, just one more story or breath of fall air was like a treasure. Still she couldn't speak, couldn't move of her own volition, the fear and surprise leaving her at the mercy of the one calling the shots. If only she had been better prepared.. If only she had been more aware... If only... If only... Hindsight is 20/20.

The door of the car was open now and just as Corina was propelled toward it she remembered to scream... Remembered to put up a fight, despite that prick that she could feel even through her clothing. It was as if the world snapped back into focus after she had been submerged into an icy river a few moments before. She screamed and screamed. For many people the world goes on as if the troubles of a single person never existed, as if that single moment is out of time. If felt like that for Corina, for she saw no salvation at hand.

A low thunk was the first sign that something had happened, something had shifted from the original plan of her attacker. A soft grunt emitted from the man at her side and his grip on her arm loosened even as he'd thrown her up against his car. She stumbled back, eyes wide as a vision in black bent down to retrieve a small silver object lying now beside the prone and unconscious man who'd tried to steal her away. The blunted silver metal was in the shape of a bat, and it looked heavy enough to pack a punch.

The black cape of the vision swirled like fog as he turned to face Corina, and the eyes behind the mask met hers for only a briefly extended moment. The eyes told his story, more than any costume, more than any news article could. One person mattered, one small life of dreams and ambitions no matter how small. And then he was gone and in the distance Corina heard the sirens of the police cars heading her way.

The moment would forever live in her memory. The moment her world changed and her life became a gift. She'd always remember the man in the bat suit, and most of all his eyes. To her he had been but a blink of time. But it had been enough. A person there at just the right time, just the right place, to help someone else. It could have been anyone... And for Corina..it was Batman.

((Disclaimer: This is going to be really short and incomplete, because I've got no time, but I want to make sure and participate because...its Hikari's birthday and she's one of my favorites!))

The sound of helicopter blades beating the air was the first thing that entered his consciousness. The sound was loud and rhythmic, overwhelming. Then came the awareness that his face was on cold concrete. Then that his cheek hurt, and his body hurt. He opened his eyes, just a slit and slowly became aware that he was horizontal. Murmurs of voices talked above him. A female voice was crying and screaming demands. He didn't recognize her voice. He didn't recognize any of them.

Hands lifted him onto a stretcher and he groaned. He glipsed the scene of an accident. Two unfamiliar cars, both of the fronts smashed in on opposite sides. He didn't recognize the cars, but knew whoever had been in the driver's seat of the one nearest him must surely be in critical condition. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but he knew it.

A strange woman with long, black hair, bloody scratches on her face and her eyes red and bloated, darted through a line of firemen and paramedics despite their shouts and was suddenly at his side.

She touched his face lightly, and he tried to turn his head to look at her, but stopped due to searing pain. So his blue eyes alone moved to look at her.

He wondered who she was and why she was touching him, but it felt good so he didn't push her away, just looked at her, confused.

"Why...why...are you crying?" he said, struggling for breath between words, starting the query before he realized that speaking was painful.

To his frustration this made her cry more. He tried lifting his arm. It was painful, but he could do it. Lifting his hand to the woman's cheek, he wiped her tears away on one side. His strength spent, he lowered his arm and just stared at her, bewildered.

A fireman tried to pull her away, but she fought her way free and managed to grasp his hand.

"Don't you dare die!" she yelled, her voice strained by an odd combination of pain, anger, and fear. "I'll find you!"

The firemen and paramedics finally succeeded in pulling the woman away and loaded him into what he now saw was a military chopper.

Seconds later, morphine rushed through his body and the helicopter lifted off, spiriting him away to, from what he could gather from eavesdropping, a top secret military base.

"Who was that?" he asked a burly man in a uniform. The burly man shared a look of surprise with the older uniformed man next to him.

"It's not important," the older man snapped.

"But...she seemed to know me," he argued weakly. He frowned and realized something was very wrong. There was something he knew he should know, but he didn't. He stared at the younger man, the one who seemed more sympathetic.

He wasn't sure how he knew that either; he could just...tell...somehow.

Looking the man in the eye, he implored,

"Who am I? What's my name?
What happened? Tell me!"

Please roll to something I actually know how to write hahahahah

Edit: coffee huh, I’ll post in a bit

Coffee is essential for her to function in the morning, without it she could barely open her eyes after all-it is only a means to an end, nothing more nothing less. It is bitter, all too dry and it always left a horrible taste in her mouth, sometimes when she got the wrong type of beans it was sour enough to give her a stomach ache, or bitter enough that no amount of milk was able to truly wash away the horrible flavour.

He disagreed.

He thought coffee making to be an art form, and waxed poetics about the intricacies of different methods and the slight variation of flavours and aroma between each type of coffee beans which she never truly understood.

He would spend money on expensive equipment, scour the shops for the exact type of beans from the exact country and create his own blends, which, to her taste buds, aren’t so different from one another; it is all the same brown, and bitter bean water that tasted absolutely horrible.

‘Have you tried full cream milk, with liberica coffee beans? I have some beans from Machu Picchu left, from last time. I’ll only bring it to the first crack this time, I’m sure you would enjoy it!’ -as if it was any different from the usual 3-in-1 instant coffee she drank, with the exception of it being slightly more bitter and sour.

But she nods every time, going along and taste-testing whatever new blends or combinations he thought of, and tries to say something more than ‘it’s okay’.

There is something therapeutic about watching him go through the entire process, from fresh coffee beans to a steaming cup of coffee; from roasting the coffee beans till it caramelise, grinding it into powder and watching as the liquid drip into the glass coffee pot from the ceramic funnel.

Occasionally, when he insisted on it, she could almost smell the so-called ‘honey and citrusy aroma’ supposedly coming from the coffee beans.

Coffee is only essential for her to function in the mornings, she would never change her mind on it- that coffee is only a means to an end, and if she could extract the caffeine without having to drink coffee, she would happily do so. But, it doesn’t only have to be that, and perhaps it is because she has been spending too much time with him recently, but she could admit that, coffee can be more than just a means to an end.

Even if she still can’t appreciate the flavour, it is undeniable that his passion is rather infectious, she supposes.

(Awkward, I completely forgot about this. Hope it is still 1 October over at your side ;; I tried hahaha)